


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: When a hunt goes awry, Crowley and the reader are forced to confront certain truths.





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: requested by @devsfan55: Let’s see. Reader has a huge crush on Crowley, but doesn’t believe it’s even remotely reciprocated. She gets hurt on a solo hunt and Crowley comes to help, because obviously he has feelings, but feels she won’t like him. So it leads to confessions, help and smut if you wish. If this is too typical I can think of something else.

“And you’re sure you don’t need any help, Kitten? It would be all too easy for me to pop in for a bit.”

Biting back a smile at the nickname, you replied, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it handled. With the information you gave me, this hunt should be a cakewalk. Besides, I know you’ve got the court to worry about.”

“Never mind that bunch of opportunistic scavengers,” he scoffed, “I can handle them.”

“It’s alright, Crowley,” you assured him, chuckling at the disdain in his voice, “it’s not the first time I’ve done a solo hunt and I doubt it’ll be the last; I’ll be fine.”

He made a noncommittal sound, the skepticism in his tone clear even through the crappy cell reception. “If you say so. But the offer stands, love- the moment you need help, call.”

Unable to fight back a smile this time, you promised him you would if things went sideway before hanging up. The nature of your relationship with the King of Hell was…unconventional. Your first meeting had been during an ‘all hands on deck’ case the Winchesters called you in on. The quick-witted and sarcastic demon charmed his way into your good graces, going so far as to save your life when a rogue angel targeted you. He’d taken a special interest in you ever since.

But as much as you appreciated the attention- and appreciate it, you did- there remained the simple fact that it would never mean as much as you wanted it to. For all the suggestive remarks and shameless flirting, he never made a move, always drawing back when things became a little too heated, a little too serious. No matter how much you tried to show him you wouldn’t mind taking things to the next level, he never did. It hurt more than it had any right to, knowing that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, that he was just naturally flirtatious and didn’t mean any of the things he said.

Pushing down the familiar sting, you focused on packing your gear. Pining over Crowley wasn’t going to accomplish anything…all it would do was distract you from the job. With the information he gave you, and what you managed to discover with your own research, you had a nest of vampires to take care of before they had the chance to kill anymore people. Vampires were something of a specialty, and you weren’t expecting any trouble. Starting up your car, you braced yourself for the fight ahead- you had work to do.

****

Rolling over with a groan of protest, you buried your face deeper into the soft pillows. It was far too early to be awake in your opinion- unfortunately, you were alone in that belief. Warm fingers trailed down your bare arm, a bearded jaw rubbing at the nape of your neck. Leaning into the caress with a hum, your body stirred to awareness despite your best efforts.

A gravelly voice murmured in your ear, “Now, come on, Kitten- you’re the one who wanted me to wake you.”

“‘s too early,” you mumbled, “five more minutes.”

He chuckled low in your ear, a rumble in his chest you felt more than heard. “And when five minutes turns into an hour, I’ll be the one to get the blame for it.”

You didn’t bother with a denial, knowing he spoke the truth. Burrowing deeper into the silk sheets, you turned over to face Crowley, nuzzling into his naked chest. For all his insistence that you get up, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. Letting out a contented sigh as the scent of woodsmoke, whiskey, and a hint of sulfur filled your nose. It was a scent you’d know anywhere, one that meant safety and comfort, a scent that meant you were home.

A scratchy kiss landed on your forehead. Scrunching up your nose at the prickly sensation, you couldn’t hold back a sleepy grin when he did it again, peppering kisses across your face. Resigned to the inevitable, you lifted your head up from his chest to see him smirking at you, a look of fond amusement lighting up his eyes. Frowning in mock annoyance, you rolled away when he moved in to kiss you, rising to your feet with a stifled groan. The previous night’s activities left you sore in all the right places, a gentle throb going through your overworked muscles.

Crowley chuckled at your slight wince, full of masculine pride. You flipped him off over your shoulder, limping over to the bathroom. Teeth clean and nature’s call seen to, you returned to the bedroom, grabbing Crowley’s shirt up off the floor and wrapping it around your naked body. He beckoned to you from where he still lay in bed, and you let yourself be rolled beneath him, finally granting him the kiss previously denied.

He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, slow and sensual, that clever tongue working wonders. It dragged on until you were finally forced to break away, face flushed and lungs starved for air. Undeterred, he made his way down your throat, brushing feather soft kisses along the arch of your neck, his whiskery beard tickling your delicate skin. Humming with pleasure, your head tilted back to allow him further access, which Crowley was quick to take advantage of.

“Someone’s feeling affectionate today,” you remarked with a sigh, biting your lip against the pleasurable pain as he sucked a mark into your skin.

“Hmm,” he murmured in agreement, pulling away from you with one last sharp nip. “Today is a rather special day- five years since Hell gained its queen, and you agreed to be mine.”

“You big sap,” you teased lightly, cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing idly across his cheek.

“Only for you, love.”

“It doesn’t feel like it, does it?” you remarked. “It seems like just yesterday you first asked me to marry you; hard to believe how much time has passed. Almost like a dream.”

As soon as the words left your lips, a wave of dizziness washed over you. Lightheaded, you glanced about the room, startled to see your surroundings completely changed. Instead of the opulent bedroom you shared with your demonic lover, there were rough hewn walls and a dirt floor, a crumbling staircase off to your left. Blinking your eyes hard against the image, you nearly missed Crowley’s next words.

“Indeed, darling, and one I never wish to wake from.” He leveled you with a soft gaze, the softness in his eyes fading when he noticed the disoriented look on your face. “Something wrong, love?”

Shaking off the sense of vertigo, you forced your eyes to focus, relieved to see the familiar room once more, and the concerned face of your husband. When he repeated the question, you shot him a reassuring smile. “No, everything’s fine, just got dizzy for a second. I’m okay…we’re okay.”

He laid a broad hand on the gentle swell of your belly, stroking the small bump with a tenderness reserved solely for you. At only five months, you’d just begun to show, the tiny mound bringing out all of Crowley’s protective urges; it seemed that the physical change in your body finally hammered home the fact that you carried his child, his heir. These days, he tended to hover over you, reluctant to let you do anything that might be overtaxing. It was still new enough to be endearing rather than overbearing, and you loved him all the more for his doting.

True to form, he suggested, “Perhaps we should postpone the day’s celebrations.”

“It’s fine, Crowley, really. I’m not a delicate flower, you know, and I’m not going to spend the day laying around like a lump- I’m a hunter for crying out loud.”

“You  _were_  a hunter, darling,” he reminded, “and what manner of king would I be if I didn’t take care of my queen?”

Giving him a wry look, you were about to reply when sharp pain lanced through your arm. At the same time, a wave of nausea overcame you, the dizziness of before returning much stronger. Again, the room around you flickered, Crowley’s concerned face blinking out of existence for a brief moment and a bone-deep weariness swamping you in heavy exhaustion. You were just so tired all of a sudden, and a nice long sleep seemed like a fantastic idea.

Just as suddenly as it’d come on, it was gone. Crowley studied you with worry etched into every feature. He opened his mouth, but when he spoke, it was Castiel’s voice that came out. “You need to wake up.”

Confused, you could only stare at him. “What?”

“You need to wake up,” he repeated insistently.

Dread growing, you watched on as Crowley’s features blurred, his face changing into Cas’. Scrambling off of the bed, you tripped over your own feet as the plush carpeting was replaced with dirt. Cas followed after you, expression kind but firm. “You need to wake up now; you’ve been missing for nearly a week and are very weak. If you stay here much longer, you’ll die.”

You shook your head in denial, unwilling to acknowledge the creeping feeling of dread that he was telling the truth. “No, that’s not- I’m not…”

“Remember,” he prompted gently, “you were hunting a djinn, and it ambushed you. It nearly drained you completely before Crowley was able to locate you. He called on me to heal you, but it trapped you in its illusion before it died- only you can break it.”

Grief ate at your heart at the certainty in his voice. The memories came back in pieces, tiny fragments of finding what you thought was the vampire nest, only for a tattooed man to sneak up behind you, the poison in his touch coursing through your veins before the world went dark.  Unaware of the tears trailing down your cheeks, you mumbled, “Vampires.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I thought I was hunting vampires,” you clarified, “I wasn’t prepared for djinn.”

“I see,” Cas said softly.

He held out an angel blade to you, handle side first. You took the blade from him, gazing around the room hopelessly, shifting your grip so the blade pointed towards you. Wiping away the tears, you sniffled quietly to yourself. “Today was our anniversary.”

“What?”

“It’s not important. Thanks, Cas…see you when I wake up,” you said with a pained smile. He didn’t have time to respond before you plunged the angel blade into your chest.

Jerking awake with a gasp, you flailed about on the floor, your panicked mind struggling to catch up with the rest of you. Cas knelt next to you, looking on in concern as he helped you to sit up. Standing off to the side just behind him was Crowley, face completely devoid of emotion. At his feet lay what might have once been a djinn; the tattoos marking his arms were the only way to know for sure.

Looking away quickly from the gruesome remains, you struggled to keep from retching at the sight. Ordinarily you weren’t so squeamish, but although Castiel had healed you of your injuries, you were still dangerously weak from blood loss. The mere thought of standing had your head spinning, your empty stomach heaving in protest. Cas seemed to sense something was wrong, and delicately scooped you up as if you weighed no more than a feather.

Seeing you in Cas’ arms stirred Crowley to life, his eyes flickering at the sight before he strode over determinedly. “No need to linger on our accounts Giraffe; I’ll take her from here.”

Wrapping a forceful hand around your bicep, he whisked you away from that fetid, foul room without another word. You landed in a room almost identical to the one from your hallucination, his hold unyielding as he scooped you up and carried you towards a fainting couch in the corner of the room. Tension radiated from him, his jaw set and eyes hard as he gently set you down on the plush chair.

Rising to his full height, he straightened his tie, smoothing away an invisible wrinkle from his lapel before he began pacing in front of you. You watched him with growing trepidation; you knew the signs of Crowley trying to control his temper, usually when some minion botched simple instructions. But he’d never acted this way with you before, and it left you feeling anxious. Struggling to stand, you froze when he leveled you with a stern glare, sinking back onto the chair. “Crowley…”

“The fault is mine,” he cut you off, looking away as he resumed pacing, “I never should have let you go on that hunt alone.”

“Excuse me?”

He continued, missing the incredulous note in your voice. “Well that’s the last hunt you go on without backup of some kind- a hellhound at the very least. I can’t- this can’t happen again.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you grumbled, your own temper rearing its head at his presumptuousness. “So a monster got the jump on me- it happens. That’s part of being a hunter, it just means I’ve got to do more research next time.”

“You nearly died!” Crowley shouted, at the end of his already limited patience. “Do you have any idea what that was like, seeing you dangling there like meat on a hook?! You were so close to death even I could see the damn light at the end of the bloody tunnel! Were it not for Castiel, you would be gone now, and I would never see you again!”

Stunned at the sight of his rage, you could only sit in silence as he berated you. In all the time you’d known him, you’d never seen Crowley so worked up. Usually so poised, the few times you’d seen him lose his temper in the past he normally responded with sarcasm and scorn, not… _this_. This was so much more than just anger, more than just frustration at having to swoop in and save your ass; there was no denying the undercurrent of fear running through his furious tirade.

“Crowley, I-”

He silenced you again, his lips on yours in the blink of an eye. Leaning over you, both hands cradling your face, his kiss was hard and bruising, anger and frustration and fear pouring forth like water from a spigot. You opened beneath the insistent prodding of his tongue, the taste of him flooding your mouth, so similar to your dream your breath hitched at the memory. Gripping tight to the lapels of his suit, you crushed the fine wool between your fingers as you pulled him closer still, your lips moving together in a fierce dance, neither of you willing to be the first to pull away.

Only the need for air had you drawing back with a gasp, face flushed and chest heaving as you filled your empty lungs. Crowley looked as surprised as you felt at the sudden display, staring down at where you sat with shock. You could only stare at each other in dumbfounded silence, trying to process what just happened. A heavy silence filled the room, neither of you quite sure what to say. It was Crowley who broke the silence.

“You were so close to death I had to threaten your reaper with Juliette,” he murmured, his gravelly voice just loud enough for you to hear.

“You did that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you,” he admitted. “It’s the damnedest thing- I’m not sure when or how, but you’ve worked your way into this black heart of mine. Now the very thought of losing you…well, I simply won’t stand for it.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected show of vulnerability, it took a moment to process his confession. Your silence unnerved him, his hands fidgeting as if he longed to reach for you again but restrained himself. You saw the moment his walls came back up, his fear that you were rejecting him urging him to protect himself from the sting. Reaching out, you stopped him from turning away, holding tight to his hands until he met your gaze.

Locking eyes with him, you came clean. “You were my dream.”

“Beg pardon?”

“The djinn,” you clarified, licking suddenly dry lips, “the hallucination or whatever you want to call it- you were it. Us, together. That’s what it showed me. A…a future.”

He went still a long minute, his expression unreadable. You didn’t push for a response, ignoring your frantic nerves. Crowley didn’t say a word as he gently coaxed you to stand, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. Hands sliding up to his shoulders, you flushed under the intensity of his stare, those dark eyes positively devouring you. This time you were ready when he pulled you close, your lips tentatively moving together as you sampled one another.

This kiss was different, the fear and anger of before giving way to tender reverence. You weren’t quite ready to call it love, not yet, but as you poured the depths of your devotion into the kiss, you knew he felt the same. It went on, Crowley worshiping you with his lips, the scratch of his beard keeping you grounded in the reality of it all. This was really happening, you were pouring your heart out to the King of Hell, only to find your feelings weren’t unfounded.

He eventually drew back, perhaps sensing your growing need for air. You clung to him, lest you fall over right then and there. Pushing back a stray hair from your temple, Crowley ruefully asked, “I don’t suppose you plan on retiring from hunting?”

“I can’t,” you replied just as softly.

“I thought as much,” he sighed, his hold on you tightening protectively. “At least say you’ll keep a hellhound with you when you hunt alone. For my sake, love.”

It wasn’t a terrible compromise, all things considered. “Okay. For your sake.”

Crowley looked pleased, as if expecting more of a fight. “Excellent…saves me the trouble of sending one with you anyway.”

About to chastise him for his high-handed attitude, you caught the look of genuine relief hiding behind the teasing glint in his eyes. Deciding to save that talk for another day, you wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in his kiss once more. As sweet as they were, dreams just couldn’t compare.


End file.
